Spilling Guts

Part 48 - Cat out of the Bag

Louis passed by Main Tech in his quest for more coffee. No Will. No Megan and Teegan at their desks either. Beni and Reese however were having a great time stuffing more cardboard, spring-loaded traps of glitter and "Billys" into any nook or cranny they could find on Will's desk.

Wasn't the rabbit's name Billy? thought Louis.

He left the two to their glittery trap setting and went to Rachel's lab. She was next on his list for the Devil's Neckbrace report.

Seeing Megan and Teegan in Rachel's lab was serendipitous.

"Oh, good. You're here." Louis closed the lab door behind him. I don't need to hunt them all down one by one. "Busy?"

"Wrapping up a case," said Teegan, glancing up over a lapful of folders and notes. "Been a long morning. How's the desk life?"

"Nerf guns at dawn, and someone is going to be covered in glitter by the end of the day," said Louis.

Megan, sat on a table with her bare foot in Rachel's gloved hands. "Must be bad if there's glitter involved. I'm probably going to be here for a while," muttered Megan. She hissed as Rachel turned her ankle slightly to the side.

"What happened to you?" asked Louis as he approached.

"A table," groused Megan. "End of story."

"And possibly a few broken toes," said Rachel as she moved Megan's foot into the cradle of a small, portable BT scanner. "Which you've been putting weight on for the last day."

Megan pursed her lips at Rachel's censure.

Louis held up the blue folder. "Brought the Neckbrace report."

The three of them seemed to wince simultaneously at the folder; too many bad memories associated with the Devil's Neckbrace.

"What's the short and dirty version?" asked Megan.

"The Neckbrace is worse than we thought, and it's victims need more help." Louis passed the folder over to Teegan. "I think some of the symptoms of sleep disorders have delayed onset. Some of the people affected by are getting help, but the treatments applied are meant for psychological trauma rather than neurophysiological."

"So they need both." Teegan balanced her papers on her knees and flipped through the pages of Louis' report, slowly deflating like an exhausted tire. "This is definitely something that we need to spend more time on."

"Megan at least will have time to sit and work," said Rachel as she took off her gloves and spun the BT screen around to Megan. "You have two broken toes. I'll get you fitted for toe braces, a crutch, and you need to be off your foot for up to six weeks."

Megan's head slumped down like a leaking hacky sack. "Mother fucking goldfish."

Louis gave a sardonic look to Megan in her misery. "Welcome to the desk life. It's riveting. We have glitter."

"I don't suppose I could join in with the Nerf guns?" asked Megan as she swung her foot out of the BT cradle and dangled it off the table. She reached for her shoe at the end of the table, fingers barely touching it. "I'd love to shoot something right now."

Instead of grasping the shoe, Megan ended up tipping it over the table. Teegan reached out to catch it, and the precarious stack of notes on her lap slid to the floor like a cat deciding it was a non-newtonian fluid.

Teegan swore and her hand quickly gave the finger to the papers as they scattered.

All but Megan immediately knelt to pick them up.

"I'd take a day running after a robot prototype instead of paperwork," said Louis. He reached for a photo stuck halfway under the expansive rat-condo, and then he froze. It was a photo of a woman, pale in death, color streaked through her hair.

"Why are you investigating my barista?"

Megan and Teegan's heads shot up. "Your what?"

Louis shook the photo at them. "This is Parker. She was my favorite barista at Bean Scoot until she quit four months ago. She's dead?"

Teegan and Megan looked at each other, something clicking into place behind their eyes.